


Unsuccessful Business

by electronic_elevator



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types
Genre: Pants Pooping, Public Humiliation, in the words of the elders: don't like don't read, messing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-23
Updated: 2019-05-23
Packaged: 2020-03-13 07:56:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18936685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/electronic_elevator/pseuds/electronic_elevator
Summary: Maxie had already written the day off as unpleasant; he'd updated that assessment to "abysmal" when Archie showed up, and would possibly have to learn new words to describe just how terrible things were by the end.Written December 2017.





	Unsuccessful Business

**Author's Note:**

> This version of these characters: Not on good terms -- either were in the past and grew to hate each other, or only met through their work with Aqua and Magma. Archie wouldn't mind being at least on civil terms if not colleagues or friends, but Maxie hates his guts.

Maxie _hated_ Archie. For one, he directly opposed Maxie’s goals and worked against those goals, but for two, he was simply annoying. Like today. The two had run into each other in town, where Maxie had come to attend to some administrative business but had been leaving… Maxie hadn’t felt right since he woke up that morning, and while traipsing about town, he’d realized with some embarrassment what the problem was. He’d forgotten to… defecate… for a couple of days in a row. It simply wasn’t a priority for the busy man — Maxie had a history of ignoring his needs until they became significantly bothersome. Now, experiencing periodic cramps and needing to occasionally clench to control himself, it had reached significantly bothersome. He made an irritated sound, when Archie noticed him, hoping he could depart this encounter quickly.

“Hey-y, Maxie! How’s it going?” Archie called, waving as if they were friends.

Maxie rolled his eyes. “Fine, until you showed up,” he muttered, although the day had been mediocre at best. Archie jogged the distance between them and clasped a hand on Maxie’s shoulder. Maxie shrugged it off. 

“What brings you to town? You wanting to battle the leader of the most successful team in Hoenn?”

“Ah, if I wanted to battle myself, I wouldn’t need to come to town,” Maxie retorted, taking the bait. Archie laughed as if this were the joke of the century, and Maxie’s scowl deepened. “Anyway, my team members and I were just leaving.”

“Ahhhh, Maxie, Maxie, Maxie. I get it; you’re afraid you’ll lose! But how will you get stronger if you don’t fight someone better than you every now and then? It’ll be fun, c’mon!” Archie kept needling with that stupid broad grin. 

Maxie figured he’d never get Archie to shut up unless he agreed. That, and he knew he was the better leader and he knew his team was stronger and damnit he could do away with Archie’s team in short order, type disadvantage or not. 

Tabitha and the grunts they’d brought along exchanged a glance. Maxie had been insisting they hurry back to the base for the better part of an hour now, but they knew better than to say anything. 

“Fine, if it would please you so much.” And apparently it would. Archie let out a whoop, backed up to an appropriate battling distance, and immediately let out his first Pokémon. Maxie grimaced against yet another cramp, and released one of his “water resistant” Pokémon. 

———————

Maxie was, in fact, the stronger battler, though Archie was certainly competent (not that Maxie would ever acknowledge that). Nonetheless, the type distribution kept Maxie on his toes and dragged out the battle long enough that the Magma grunts had quietly sat down on the nearby bench, and Maxie’s discomfort had moved from “pressing” to “urgent” and was presently coming up to “emergency.” He stood stiffly with his fist at his side, actively holding himself back from losing control, and shouted his Pokémon’s instructions coarsely. He could feel his lower stomach rumbling, and knew it was throwing him off his game. Rather than focusing completely on the battle, he was preoccupied worrying about whether the nearby Tabitha could hear. He hated everything about the situation, and grew more irritated as the battle continued. But finally, he knew Archie was down to his last Pokémon - a Tentacool; Maxie didn’t know he had one - and he snarled “Golbat, Air Cutter!” 

His Golbat thankfully landed the hit spot-on and Tentacool was down before Archie could call out a counter-move. 

Unable to even enjoy his win, Maxie snapped “Now Tabitha, grunts; we’re _leaving_. Let’s _go_.” 

The grunts, sensing that something was wrong, stood to attention. “Yes, sir!” 

“Wait wait wait, Maxie! I’m supposed to give you your prize money! Didn’t you have any fun..?” Archie looked a bit lost, picking up on Maxie’s gruffer-than-usual demeanor yet clearly unaware of his predicament. 

“I don’t — care about the money —“ Maxie said, his composure breaking as he desperately fought the urge to double over, or worse, squat down. 

“Sir—?” Tabitha came up to his side, looking concerned. 

Maxie was red-faced from the strain and the embarrassment. “I need to leave, Tabitha,” he said, lowly. Tabitha nodded, willing to not ask questions. Maxie started off, walking stiffly toward the car, biting his lip against the pain of the cramps.

“Maxie I’m sorry if I—“ Archie started, the prize money in-hand, now way too close to Maxie. 

Maxie needed to move; he needed to be back in his office twenty minutes ago when he was roped into battling this buffoon. However, let his pride get the better of him once again. He needed to clarify that Archie had not in any way contributed to this disarray, so he turned around and yelled “This isn’t about you, you—“ before cutting off with a gasp as a paralyzing cramp pushed a heavy load of shit into his pants. The pain forced him to bend over, his hands going to his lower belly, assuming a slight squat, and he froze like that as his body forced the rest of his mess out. The layers of his uniform held it all, but directly up against him, squishing everywhere. At least, his coat must cover the bulge, and god was there one with several days’ expelled all at once. He felt tears come to his eyes, for once in his life feeling far, far, too hot. Everyone’s eyes were on him and they must know what was happening - if not the sounds, then the smell, would give him away. 

“Maxie?” Tabitha asked cautiously. 

He knew if he spoke he’d start crying and by god he would not. Besides, what would he say? So he walked off — or, tried, but was forced to waddle slightly, which spread the mess further inside his shorts — hyper-aware of Archie, who did the very first thing right in his life by staying fucking put. 

He wanted to demand his subordinates get in front of him but now he was crying; hot tears dripping silently down his face, and he didn’t want them to know so he couldn’t talk. He had never felt so humiliated and damnit this was all Archie’s fault.

Finally, they got back to the vehicle. Maxie muttered for Tabitha to drive, giving him the keys without making eye contact, and felt tears well up again as he realized he had to sit down. Carefully, he gathered his coat up and sat gingerly in a backseat, wincing as the mess squished up against him, undoubtedly completely ruining the lower half of his uniform. It was an extremely awkward, painfully silent ride, in which Maxie stared at the floor and tried not to move and tried not to cry and tried not to think about what Tabitha or the grunts or Archie must think, and the car’s other inhabitants pretended they were anywhere else in the world.


End file.
